


On the Seduction Line

by Eunin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (Um like it says cunt here like twice so if you dont like that uh super sorry 0-0), (bUT IRL PLEASE ALWAYS USE A CONDOM MY DARLINGS), AlsO Peter wears a skirt/lingirie sorta outift, Anal Sex, Crying, Daddy Kink, Fingering, God wtf have i doNE, I made these two sex addicts here omg sorry, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, No Condom, Oh my GoSh I forgot to mention daddy kink is here too, Overstimulation, Peter kinda seems like a sex addict but y’knOW WHaT-, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, SO, Sex, Smut, This isn’t fluff tho lmaooooo, and he’s real slutty, both are clean though lol, he’s just a real soft spider boi, hooooo boi idk what I’m doing, peter cries a LoT idk, sub/dom (??), this is SEX, unprotected sex, whoops(?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eunin/pseuds/Eunin
Summary: Spiderman, for all his snark and sass andsmarts, will always be Peter Parker.And Peter Parker, despite his Gen-Z humor and adorkableness, will always be the timid school boy from Queens.Silent; unspoken.(And pathetically in love with Tony Stark.)





	On the Seduction Line

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever... s-e-x fic, super sorry to everybody that I disappointed ㅇㅅㅇ” this is probly just 7k-ish words of smut fail :P

Spiderman, for all his snark and sass and smarts, will always be Peter Parker.

And Peter Parker, despite his Gen-Z humor and adorkableness, will always be the timid school boy from Queens.

Silent; unspoken.

 

It was probably weird, to be honest, that he'd feel nervous about things like this. About pleasure. This is just one of the few things he was scared of showing to the real world, misunderstanding and disgust as one of the major concerns.

And even if many have told him he could talk about anything with them, he simply can't bring up the courage to talk about certain things.

This outfit, for example. It was incredibly soft. It feels light and looks comfortable, and Peter digs his nails into his palms a little harder for the sake of not whining. The skirt brushed him just right, and the thought of Tony remaking his suit with this fabric made him shiver.

 

Peter bites his lower lip in an unconscious manner, studying the rest of the set he'd been told to wear.

One of his fingers trail down to gently trace the top of his thigh high, that softly grips his legs and teases the flesh sticking out where it ends. It's a flattering shade of red, matching with pitch black clothes that clash nicely on his pale skin.

' _Like Tony's hair,_ ' Peter hums.

 

There's no sound in the room, except the pats of Peter's shuffling, he supposes. The continuing 'up and down and up and down' of Peter's toes that give away his anxiety. His skirt's pleats fold gently over every shift, not doing anything to shield skin from wind's cold touch.

' _It's not too bad, I look fine,_ ' Comes self-reassurance that Peter tries to tell himself.

' _But my shirt could be longer.._ '

And sure enough, the lingerie-like shirt's hem lays barely a centimeter below his skirt's tight waist. Had it been a non-high waisted skirt, more skin would've been showing even with both arms at his sides.

Peter hesitates, then slowly raises his arms, folds them at the elbows. Simply a shift of his shoulders causes the shirt to raise. It was obvious from the get go, but Peter didn't think more proof of how inappropriate this was would bother him too much.

After all, it's not like he's never done this before.

 

_Tick, tick, tick._

 

(The clock's hands point at a quarter past midnight. A few more minutes to wait.)

 

Peter tilts his head. This way and that. For a moment, he wonders if this time won't be so.. intense. Maybe he doesn't look as bad as he always thinks?

"I just," Peter huffs under his breath, brows furrowing at his reflection, tugging at the petite skirt that almost completely shows the ending curve of his cute ass. "It seems so..."

He trails off, unconsciously biting his lip harder and harder.

" _Embarrassing_."

 

Saying it out loud concretes the situation and Peter shivers at the spark of lust in his belly. Because, honestly, why does he even need to pretend he doesn't want this? He asked for the scene, after all.

It's what he loves — the feeling of shame — being humiliated in front of his own self.

Call him a freak, anything you want.

No words'll stop his building heat now.

 

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

 

Peter remains glued where he is, staring straight at himself, and his hands are starting to burn cold — clammy with fire. Thoughts of regret and anticipation ricochet around his head; he's a mix of focused and distracted.

The clock ticks until all he hears, all he zones onto, is the constant sounds of it's hands moving.

Doesn't take too long 'till the sound of heavy footsteps flood his senses.

 

_12:30 pm._

 

A well-built figure sporting a fit black tux lowers itself onto the bed haphazardly, tie askew and pants unzipped. The flash of.. whatever it is in Peter's eyes has him sucking in a quick breath. Short and quiet, but quick.

His lips press together.

For the only parts of the man Peter could see, he could tell he was much too relaxed.

Slouched, against the backdrop of insanely soft white cotton sheets, gaze not moving once off the device in his lap.

Peter holds himself. ' _Steady, Parker_.'

 

"You had fun?"

 

Over his shoulder's reflection, Peter shifts an inch or so sideways, spotting the mussed hair, open jacket and popped buttons on his lover. Tony doesn't seem to pay attention, until Peter hears the slightest "Mm" rumble from him. The older man finally turns on him, and although Peter was used to the sharp stare of his hungry eyes, he still shuddered. "They weren't too bad. Not my taste though, those women," Tony chuckles something low, sliding off the unwound tie completely.

Peter nods, blankly peering back at him.

 

It was an occurance — the sex — that was never supposed to happen. But it did. Peter knows he could pull out any time, Tony wouldn't mind, but he can't. Because he loves this.

The first time they snuck theirselves away from a scene was at Tony's 49th birthday party, where Pepper had left early due to her boyfriend's family or anything like that, and Tony had been sloshed drunk — laughing hysterically at the doorway after her leave about how Pepper wanted to ditch his pathetic self from the start.

Peter'd pulled and comforted him into his bedroom(even if Tony didn't believe any word he'd said) telling Mr. Hogan along the way that "Mr. Stark said the party's done, everybody's gotta leave, okay? Thanks a bunch, Happy".

 

And then he was going to leave Tony on the bed, really, he was.

 

But Tony didn't want that.

 

So he stayed.

 

And the rest, as they say, is history.

 

Now it's become a dangerous addiction, to both of them, and Peter doesn't have enough bravery to wonder if the addiction's fueled by something other than sexual want.

 

He's only a repeating fling, there's nothing to wonder about. Tony's got others like him. He's not anything special.

 

"Want me to start the bath?" Peter smiles, brittle and thin, offering a way out for Tony. It was his 18th birthday, but that doesn't mean nothing. The man's surely got better things to do. It was a surprise he'd even said yes to the stuttered invitation Peter'd given him _(—"I-If, um, you want.. Can you- I mean, like, the thing we do? My- uh- birthday..." — "If you’re sure, kid."—)_ , he was kind enough to visit during the day, he had no important reason to make Peter's night either.

 

"No, no it's fine," Tony replies, waving a hand dismissively, eyes back on his StarkPad. "I've actually got stuff to do."

 

Peter reminds himself deflating at the monotone response is extremely pathetic, and only nods. "'K," he shrugs, "I'll go change out, Mr. Stark, then we could go to Burger King or McDonalds. Aunt May thinks I'm at Ned's though, so could I use the suit to sneak in? 'Cause—"

 

He freezes faster than he thought he could, the interruption of his rant is the thumps of designer shoes against the laminated wood floor, echoing in his bones. It's not much of a big surprise, but his fingers twitch against his thighs nonetheless, and merely three seconds pass before a larger shadow's behind him, covering him.

Peter flinches, yet he doesn't budge, clenching his muscles as a way to calm himself.

Bronzed arms wrap around his waist, and Peter barely registers his cold hands clutch onto the stiff feel of the other's. His pale complexion clashes and blends with the rough brown of the older's, rolled sleeves showing the forearms Peter knew could hold him so well.

 

Tony's scent — crisp and familiar — completely envelopes him, binding the shaky parts of his head together and breaking him inside out.

 

The breath he didn't know he was holding flows out, but it's too slow.

He breathes again.

And here's where the problem with addiction comes in. See, Tony's scent in itself is a conqueror, a drug-like fragrance. It drives you dizzy just to the point where you're desperate and conflicted and feeling all the seduction seep into you. Where you're so suffocated you don't understand why you'd ever want to stop inhaling the lust-poisoned smell yet at the same time trying to hold your breath for the sake of not breathing it in. Tony's scent is only a grain in the entire jar-of-sand reasons why he drives Peter obsessed.

It's not just the only thing.

 

There's also the way Tony lets out little teasing touches of air from his mouth, brushing Peter every which way and peeling him apart.

They tickle his nape, his neck, with every deep chuckle. It was something the man did a lot, around him, Peter's realized. Tickle his skin in general, when he feels cruel enough to drag things out, just close enough to him until his lips are in contact with Peter's sensitive skin, goatee scratching it up in ways that have the boy trembling. Tickle his tongue, when Tony kisses him deep, breathing unto his tingling taste buds and _oh_ , oh his kisses.

Tony Stark doesn't simply kiss deep, he kisses to the point where it's enough to bring out orgasms, in Peter. Making out — even without touch — was enough for Peter to feel it was sex. Tony's tongue is flexible, as it is, it tugs and ties and chokes Peter up, leaving him gasping for oxygen and scrabbling for support, moans spilling nonstop.

He's thorough when it's rubbing against Peter’s, to the point where if anyone were to taste the man they'd find he tastes like the mint toothpaste of an eighteen-year-old boy from Queens, instead of expensive wine and vodka. His tongue scrapes rough and wet, right till you’d cry, so sticky and delicious.

Now Tony's got his hands on Peter's hips, thumbs smoothing over his hipbones where they jut out. Peter does his best not to shudder.

 

"Hm, aren't we gonna have fun here? Why're you trying to invite me elsewhere?"

It's a raspy, rumbling question that immediately plays with Peter. It's playful, breathy — perfect — moving Peter's fingers into his mouth without his conscious notice.

He pulls them out, shaking.

"Mr. Stark," Peter exhales, and he's not quite sure what he's trying to say, but his sentence doesn't get finished. 

"It's pretty, my baby," Tony's small smile is edged — tilted enough for Peter to briefly debate if it's a smirk or not — nothing short of teasing. He nuzzles the ending tufts of hair at Peter's neck, and the boy barely manages to hold in a keen. His lips open silently nonetheless, eyelids drooping.

"So, _so_ pretty," Tony has his teeth on show, sharp and mischievous, the sound of his laughter charmingly perverse, enticing. "Let's make tonight memorable, yeah?"

"I should prob'ly t-take it o-of _f_ -" Peter's breath hitches, the squeeze of Tony's hands raising his body's temperature yet making him tremble as if cold.

Tony's power is amazing.

In the flick of muscle, the man's able to flood Peter's memories of all the times he's had the man bringing him off the edge.

 

"We're staying," Tony simply hums, eyes narrowing in a sense of warning. "And you'll keep it on, right? I told you I had stuff to do-“

 

“-T-Ton _y_ -“

 

“-mainly, I meant you.”

 

Peter feels one of Tony’s hands drag up his thigh, and squeaks, turning his head to the side in order to ignore the surely red cheeks of his reflection and his lover’s growing smirk. Tony takes the time to smack gentle kisses — sticky and soft — right onto Peter’s pale neck. The boy trembles, head to toe, teeth chattering. His nails dig into Tony’s forearms, and his head is thrown back on the man’s shoulder, high keens leaving his mouth with every stuttered breath.

Peter’s moans rise once Tony has his hand between his legs, caressing him roughly. Shudders wreck his body, shaking his knees until he’s panting, hunched over.

He’s trying to keep himself from shutting his eyes, grinding his teeth into his lip, but it’s getting harder and harder to do, the digits in between his thighs familiar yet unpredictable. Peter’s gaze blurs over the mirror and all he gets to focus on is his face, flushed with saliva already dripping slowly.

The first brush near his crotch, has Peter blurting out a soft whine.

“It’s okay,” Tony hums, voice relaxed as his hand digs under the silky, lacy fabric of Peter’s clothes. “I’ve got you.”

The billionaire’s eyes seem to get a smidge darker for every sound to escape Peter’s mouth, drinking in each whimper and moan as he begins to tug the blushing sweetheart off.

Peter’s cock was hard and hot from it’s mild restriction. Tony clicks his tongue in shame for making his baby wait like this.

 

But he isn't going to make it any easier.

 

The pads of his fingers are rough — molded by days and days of working at the lab — so Tony puts them to good use. He stimulates Peter by squeezing where it matters, earning him embarrassed and helpless mewls. Briefly, he thinks that nothing sounds better than Peter being humiliated for wanting Tony’s touch as much as he does. And now Tony rubs it in the hero’s face with how intently he rubs the pads of his fingers over the veins of Peter’s cute pink cock.

"A-ah, Tony, Mr. Stark, _please_ ,” Peter is whimpering, head whipping side to side. There's a constant thrum of burning desire from his spine to his brain, and the tugging of his cock is only increasing his trembling. The flow of liquid fire, it makes his hips twitch. He feels pearls of his precum slowly seep from his slit and he's so, so _close_.

He can't do this.

God, Peter can’t-

 

He yelps, limp hands together to clutch Tony’s which was working on his dick, pats it, not knowing what else to do. He only ends up sobbing, realizing he's been bent over so low, and that through the mirror, he's able to watch his precum slide down his thighs. Tony’s legs are just close behind, long and tough and seemingly a good seat when Peter finally gets to ride that cock and be fucked as hard as he knows he deserves to be.

The boy’s legs are shaking uncontrollably — it's Tony’s free arm holding him up by the waist. Peter knows he deserves some crazy good pounding that will effectively shut him up. He deserves a tortuous kind of sex that will fuck his brains out.

Lately, the stress of juggling everything in his life has had him beat. He just needed to take a break and be Tony’s fucktoy for as long as he could manage.

 

Tony really needs to do him or he'll break.

 

He'll just straight up fold himself while spreading his legs to receive that cock that is the damn best in all senses of the word. No one could ever even try to compare to it. It's the best goddamn cock and Peter wants to cuddle it, and then kiss it over and over again. He wants to shove it into him, wants every inch of his gut to feel the heat of it—

 

"L-Let's just do it,” he pleads, tears blocking his vision.

 

"Do what?"

 

"Do _me_ ," Peter braces himself as his lover pulls away his underwear to grope his ass.

 

The taller male laughs before his eyes widen at the satisfying cop of a feel he got. "So smooth. I better feel this rubbing against me later—“

 

"Yes, sir, please, sir—“

 

He kneads the firm, plump flesh until his thumb is flat against a hot, throbbing opening. "Hm, maybe we _should_ hurry things along.”

 

 

Tony just holds the skirt up, humming in contentment when he sees the color. It's a deep red, contrasting against Peter’s milky white and rosie cheeks. "How long’s it been, by the way? A few weeks?”

 

Down the panties go, and so does Tony, who was used to having his handsome face in Peter’s sensitive places. He smiles to himself, proud of how his baby remained on all fours with his torso low his fingertips would reach his toes if he tried. ‘ _So flexible, darling._ ’

 

Seems that the obsession is making them weirder and weirder each time they fuck. It just so happened that after their first time, Tony’d instantly given Peter the offer to do it again, and the boy’d said yes. Because of their schedules, though, they rarely got to satisfy each other completely. Peter’s sex drive made him have short to nonexistent refractory periods, and usually lasted cuming four times straight without breaks. Tony’s sex drive, on the other hand, had him going big or going to bed — the older male usually took three-fourths an hour or more to get his orgasm, and the longest he’s lasted was till Peter was already sobbing for him to stop and using the safeword.

So they need to comprimise, most of the time, and it’s extremely complicated since they can’t really screw anytime they want for satisfaction.

But Tony’s got a talent, and it works for both of them.

Tony fucks really well. A blessing, really. It's to the point all Peter can do is convulse in ecstasy, babble helplessly and drool until he blacks out. It's an addictive sort of fucking that just gets better and better until Peter just can't bear not to have it at least once a day. Which was never possible, and that's why we have what we have here: an eager boy who just can't stop himself from wanting to get fucked by the one person he vowed never to take sexually before.

 

“A month," Peter whispers, in a daze.

Tony lifts an eyebrow. "A month and you’re already like this?"

"Last time we did it we rushed, a-and I didn’t get to make you cum, and I felt terrible because of that and _Daddy_ —" Peter grunts, feeling Tony wordlessly lick up and up his inner thigh before settling on the sensitive junction between his ass cheek and the leg. "G-Give me something, anything," Peter begs, "please, Mr. Stark. I'll d-do whatever you want—“

 

"Couldn’t you have asked any other person for this, Pete? Pretty sure the boy that walked you to the parking lot had a lil crush on you," Tony smirks, “‘course he isn’t as hot as me, but he’d probably be easier to take.”

 

" _It can't be anyone else_ ," Peter sobs, feeling the rough pads of Tony’s fingers rubbing him insanely well, catching against his skin and making him feel even hornier. "I-I can't cum for anyone else," more soft cries and two trembling hands coming up to wipe tears away, "My body doesn’t cum without you, Tony, so- so please don’t leave me—“

 

Peter erupts into a sobbing mess and wails a high keen of pleasure.

"Ah, ah, _hnn_..." he pathetically cries the moment Tony licks calmly over his hole.

 

"Stop whining," Tony chuckles and it's too amused for a situation like this. "Here you are, begging for me. I’ll fuck you once you behave, Sweets. Keep your legs open, yeah, like that," Tony’s growl is underlying but it's clear, "Don't even think about closing your legs. Don’t do it.”

 

And then he eats Peter out. It's a mess. His kisses first end up everywhere but Peter’s hole, filling blemishless skin with hickeys and scratches from his facial hair until he grew bored and licked all the way to the gaping entrance. The skin surrounding it is sensitive, that's why Tony keeps his eyes open, spreading that delectable ass apart before laying his tongue flat against its clean pink. Peter sounds like he's choking on cum with the way he’s moaning deliriously — no breaks in between.

Tony lays his hand on Peter multiple times, slapping his plump ass, having fun with Peter’s endearing reactions before continuing to spread his hole with his tongue, making a show in between Peter’s legs where his kisses are open and wet. He pulls away for only a moment to see his own saliva dribbling down the ring and causing it to swell, Peter’s fit and full legs shaking in crazy tremors. He does his best to suck, to eat, and it leaves his past jailbait of a lover limp.

The young hero’s high pitched, short-of-breath whines only get worse when Tony manhandles him to change positions. Now he's convulsing, with one trembling leg around Tony’s squared shoulder and the man's tongue doing wonders from below. 

Tears stream down his cheeks. He’s never sat on Tony’s face before like this and it’s really too much. He's basically been made into an obedient whore trained to enjoy it and he can’t feel the shame at this point in the fog of pleasure that hangs over his mind -- his cock is excited and heavy as Tony gives him small jerks for a little bit of relief.

His lower extremeties are on fire, while Tony’s goatee repeatedly rubs against them, and his leg is made to raise higher and higher, just to accommodate Tony’s handsome face basically eating him up. All he hears is a constant stream of suction, a crazy amount of wet kisses, and low groans of appreciation from the man he adores. He barely feels that tongue teasing to go inside, but he’s honestly too dizzy to care.

 

Peter came. Maybe. He doesn't know for sure because the moment he gets back to Earth, Tony’s looking down on him, eyes hooded. He is wiping his wet lips with the back of his hand, looking like the devil itself and Peter whines low in the back of his throat.

 

"Do you want it now?" 

Tony teasingly asks, coaxing Peter to arch his back until the male kneels down again if only to lick up his abs and smooth tummy. He goes up and up and up until he's lapping at Peter’s nipple slowly, making it perk above his tongue. Peter was already whining, but now even more so when he feels Tony’s hot tongue wetting his nipple up.

"I-I want it, yes. I want to feel your cock, T-Tony,” he hiccups.

 

"I’ve always loved your tits, Sunshine," Tony sighs softly. He closes both of his gentle lips around the pink nub, before sucking firmly to and fro. He's satisfied with how Peter squirmed at his words and actions. "Aren't you just perfect?" He begins to hum the first few parts of a random song while twisting Peter’s other nipple with his hand.

Peter mewls softly, Tony’s just so kind.

 

And suddenly Tony’s hair is now matted down. Probably because of Peter’s insistent and desperate fingers. Because of this mistake, the savior of New York decides that the bed just isn’t going to do.

It may take some effort, but doing Peter against the wall would be best.

He deserves it.

It’ll make him tremble so sweetly, like the cute toy he is.

Peter looks good clinging to the walls anyway. He looks used to it.

The way those long fingers curl up into little paws, clutching his sleeves, and the way they rest against the wall --- he looks adorable even when he's being roughly handled by a man thrice his age who wants to ravage him until the boy’s tainted everywhere by his cum just as much as the boy wants him to do so.

(God, truly got a big problem, this addiction.)

 

 

 

 

 

It's been a while since the lingerie had started to get soaked with sweat. The fragrance of their sex is heavy and suffocating, and Peter wants to die with the smell.

With a hand on his torso, Tony focuses his free hand on doing that addictive, come hither motion with a rhythm that just hits the birthday boy’s sweet spot. Tony loves getting his fingers on that special bump, abusing it as if it made music. Fingering Peter is like magic, like music, and Tony’s enraptured. 

Making magic inside his baby’s body. (He’s a better fucking magician than Strange or Loki, he’d bet.)

"How does it feel?" Tony asks softly, but with the ever present smug lilt in his voice. Peter’s reply is delayed, and Tony quietly watches with amusement as he turns around slowly, face flushed with a dripping string of drool from his mouth that had been hanging open ever since Tony began fingerfucking him. He’s mindlessly taking in the sex and Tony finds it so fucking cute.

After one, good, wake-up nudge, Peter whines, his arm coming up to push against the wall but his body and face staying planted onto its surface.

"Tell me how it feels." Tony’s eyes are darker than they were when they began, and now Peter shudders in submission.

"Feels _so_ , so good, yeah... Yes, _yes_..." Peter had been releasing sighs dripping in bliss incessantly for as long as the fingering had started. He's so in love with the way Tony is doing it. It always feels like heaven; such seductive heaven.

 

Fingering is sex. That's why Peter loves it all too much. When it's Tony’s rough skin that catches on his walls, when it's Tony’s thick digits that mess everything up by scissoring, stretching, stirring, slamming, Peter allows it all.

He sighs in pleasure. "I-I love it, Mr. Stark. I love everything about this, _ahh_. Everything about y-you." It seems more of drunken blabber if anything, but if there's any important fact to know about Peter, it's that he’s always adored Tony Stark, even to this day. But even so, Peter was a person who hid his true feelings or passions a lot in fear of being condemned, like his preferance for boys, and that's what make this sex so special.

He's in his little outift that he‘s been embarrassed for liking. He's on Tony’s fingers, which he had been too timid to ask for. He's getting fucked by Tony, who he had been too ashamed to want no matter how desperate he was.

He does love it.

 

 

 

‘ _He’s gonna be on my cock soon enough.’_

 

Tony lets the words sink in awhile, his eyes narrowing just a bit. His lips then twist with a tiny smirk before he pulls his fingers out completely to ram back inside. The older drives Peter crazy by furiously slamming his three fingers inside, so deliciously violent that it catches the latter off guard, who took to trying to grip anything just to have a hold on his sanity.

 

"A- _Ahh_ , _hn!_ " Peter moans, crazy with pleasure, body twisting forward as his eyes rolled back from the skill of Tony’s fingers. His whole body is trembling as if light, so he continues to jerk forward with every harsh thrust. He's drunk and there's too much burning fire to go around his body. The previous relaxed yet hard pace is abandoned for a rough, fast, yet forceful pace. Cum continues to spurt onto the wall as Peter experiences orgasm immediately from the constant pounding onto his love spot. 

"More, more- _Mr. Stark!_ " Peter screams and drowns in ecstasy, fisting his hair. He bows down to control his cock, but he's still cumming and Tony is still fucking him, hurriedly inserting a fourth finger to spread him out. Peter doesn't even know he can fit that much, but as he's cumming so hard Tony inserts another finger from his other hand and he doesn’t notice at all.

"P-Please," the younger sobs, "I- I need it- _co-oooock_ ," he whines weakly, eyes empty as he drools onto the floor, hands placed flat as his body folded perfectly. He's still being pushed forward, Tony overstimulating him from too much fucking, from only his fingers, no less. Peter’s loving it and it shows at how he lost control of even his own genitalia, spurting jets of come seemingly non-stop.

 

"Come on, Darling,” Tony coos. "You asked for it, so take it."

"Feels- too-  _good!_ " is all Peter sobs as his cries dissipate into pathetic whimpers. His knees buckle and when Tony pulls out to finally let him breathe, the boy just falls onto his stomach, writhing and convulsing.

This.

 _This_ is what makes him think that sex with Tony is the worth every horrid thing that could potentially happen. With this, he doesn't need to go anywhere else, to anyone else. Tony can fuck him everywhere, anytime. Tony can let Peter suck his cock as he likes because Peter will do anything to take it in himself, in any of his holes.

Tony fondly looks over Peter’s wrecked figure before he completely undoes his belt, expensive fabric falling open. The sounds accompanying his simple action cause Peter to lick his lips in anticipation, despite his sore muscles.

Tony cocks his head, laughing below his breath at the unsubtle scene. "Really? Still up for it? Are you even thinking right now?"

The man chuckles lowly, making the trembling teenager flush. 

"I'm kidding, baby boy. Hop on whenever you're ready."

Peter couldn't bear to look but he just knew that Tony’s thick girth is already available for him to take inside any hole.

And the knowledge turns him on even more.

 

 

 

 

 

Tony Stark has the best body.

 

His cock is the best for far more than just the size. It's the best because Tony uses it so well, he has it down like science. (And science was something you could depend on him to ace.) It's the best because it's not just capable of reaching so deep -- it curves just the slightest bit to drag the walls of Peter’s hole inside out. It's the best because it's carved with veins that just feel so good whenever they throb brutally as Tony pumps himself in and out. That cock is just so delicious that Peter’s body molds to its shape and grooves every time it slides in. 

Peter braces himself to just shut down as Tony grabs his hips. He anticipates his sex-god-like lover to just slam inside and cause him to cum just from that, because Tony had already gone and did it multiple times, he remembers. It makes him think that maybe it's not Tony anymore but him who's just addicted to the feel of his lover entering him.

Nevertheless, the young man mewls hysterically loud the moment he's given the slow burn of a thick cock splitting his hole which had been stretched but will never be stretched enough. Precum leaks from his slit in a thin stream, as if he were a girl who's squirting just from her first taste of a man, and Peter briefly notes how just much he truly loves being used like this.

 

"Daddy, _daddy_..." Peter cries blissfully. There will be no one more wrecked than he is whenever Tony fucks him. "Mr. Stark, I love it~”

"Do you really?" Tony scoffs playfully, holding back a growl from Peter’s tight heat suffocating him in the right places. He needed to see how Peter goes crazy for him once more before cumming.

"Yes, I do," Peter keens because Tony’s dick just doesn't seem to stop feeling so good. "I want it everyday. B-Because I _love_ it, I love your cock," Peter sighs, shaky. "Please don't take it away from me. I love- love being fucked by you only." 

He yelps and shudders when Tony suddenly yanks his hair up with a firm grip. "How much do you _need_ me?"

"E-Every _day_ ," Peter breathes, without one millisecond of hesitance. "You can fuck me anywhere you want. You can have me anytime you want. I will always be so, _so_ ready for you. Always, sir."

Tony outright growls, not holding back the sound. "Mhmm? How hard are you allowing me to fuck you?" Just to rub it in, the sex-icon snickers, using a polite tone while Peter throws his head back as he pushed in the last inches.

"Until I can't walk anymore," Peter actually _screams_ , "until it pains me to even sit up. M-Make me bedridden- Ah, _ah._ F-Fuck..."

 

Peter releases small whimpers, the side of his face shoved against the wall. His fingers gently caressing his stomach, on a small swell where the head of Tony’s cock juts his tummy out the slightest bit.

Tony curses under his breath and Peter hears it, shivering. "I'd like that," he whispers. “I’d love that too, Pete.”

 

 

 

 

 

There is a contrast between how gentle Tony is and how violent the movements of his hips are. He slams into Peter with urgency and energy, making sure that he’s rattled to the core by the intensity of his thrusts. With how hard Tony’s giving it, it's as if he wants to say something but he can't because squeezing in words between rushed groans is more than slightly difficult. He doesn’t have the patience nor the time to really talk.

Peter inhales sharply when Tony completely pulls back — it's a moment of complete emptiness — and the curves of his cock catch on Peter’s hole as if they both didn't want to let go. But it happens anyways, Tony’s completely outside before he slams back inside, causing Peter to release a pornographic moan from the overload of feeling Tony sheathing himself back into him and feeling his tip bulldoze into his lovespot to the point his whole boy-cunt caves inside out.

"This," Tony laughs casually as he begins to give forceful, short thrusts, "fits you really well."

‘ _Like it was made for me_ ,’ Peter wanted to say with the last bit of sanity he's trying to hold onto, and shudders harshly before he weakly moans, slim arms around his behind in order to raise his own skirt up, just for his lover to enjoy the sight of their liquids mixing.

"I- _so big,_ " Peter whines, basically keening like a whore. He wiggles his ass and smiles dopily when he sees Tony chuckle at it. Then Tony grinds his rock hard cock so deep and in wide circles, directly on his prostate, and the last of his sanity disappears.

 

The grinding gets deeper until the evidence of it once again shows up on his stomach. Peter’s is reduced into a desperate mess of asking to be fucked like a girl, to which Tony’s response was grinding harder into him until the younger is on his tiptoes, begging for anything but for Tony to stop.

"You're better than any girl I’ve fucked," Tony whispers gently as he pulls Peter by his soaked curls, making the lithe boy arch painfully, while moaning louder. "A body that’s way more enjoyable than any pussy I’ve felt. That's what you have. So good for me, my little darling, you hole is so soft and perfect and hot, I want to stay here forever—“

In a moment of complete weakness, Peter falls to his knees, assuming the position of a bitch in heat once more. Tony goes down on him like a rutting animal would, not waiting a second and just taking, taking, taking. The handsome male locks himself into the delicious place inside Peter that was rightfully his, before he gives the hardest thrusts he could ever give -- more dangerous than safe, with so much force that Peter is likely to break at the seams with how hard he's being slammed into. Tony digs into that heat like he wanted to screw Peter inside out, and really, it’s a wonder his prostate hasn’t had any problems yet.

To be honest, Peter is splitting apart.

Tony is goddamn thick and his size coupled with his skill makes for such an insane, rough fuck. The masochist in Peter can't get enough of being assaulted as hard as this — so hard the sounds of their skin slapping echo around the four walls of the room and definitely beyond. Peter isn't even tugging his cock anymore; being fucked like a slut, but he didn’t mind since getting pounded in his ass was always more than enough to get him to cum, anyways.

And Tony is only getting rougher.

"God, _god_ , god," Peter prays like a mantra, carelessly fisting his own hair with two of his wandering hands. Tony just drags his crazy length out to the tip before slamming back with a meaty slap, over and over again. The sounds are wet, painful, and obscene, and they make Peter really feel like he's being undone like an animal in the wild. Each thrust is faster and harder than the last; and even though Peter wanted to meet the thrusts, he can barely move because Tony takes control so well and fuck— Peter’s gonna die with this man screwing him to death.

Thick ropes of precum ooze out of Peter’s slit. And, Christ, Tony really has no plans on being less hard on him and Peter’s losing his mind. They’ve never gone this hard before.

Fucking shit.

 

‘ _I-Is he letting out that much stress?’_ Peter briefly manages to wonder amidst scrumptious pain, unrelenting with the pleasure spilling out his lips and trembles wrecking his body _. ‘What happened—'_

More thrusts interrupt his thoughts.

Frankly, Peter’s ass is so red and sore and yet he can't even feel it because when each slam of Tony’s hips against his skin ends, the next one starts. Between them both are countless strings of lube and precum mixed together, and though it makes the slide easier the dry friction isn't lost with the way they rub every bit of sex out of their system.

"Delicious," Tony praises Peter for taking it even though it's wrecking his body. He has bruises all over, and his healing factor always takes at least twenty to fifty minutes depending on the wound, meaning newer marks’ll stay up until he finally gets to fawn over them. "You’re too lovely, Pete. Too nice to me.” Pants meld into Tony’s praise. It adds more ecstasy to his sex-drunk self. “I’m gonna fuck you harder, alright? You want that?”

Peter’s teeth are chattering again, and his moans are held back by the lack of air. His pathetic sounds are still heard, though, so he makes us of his croaky voice.

" _Daddy, do it,_ " Peter spits out through bruised lips. Tony doesn't miss the tone of pure desire and it makes him laugh in the selfish want of just shattering this amazing and foolish teenager who never bothers to hide how whipped he is. Peter simply giggles, being the magnificent slut Tony’s fond of. He obviously loves it and he's going crazy from how much he does.

If cock is what Peter wants, the world’s best damn cock is what he's going to get. If he wants a good fuck, Tony would give him the fuck he'd consider his last, the fuck he’d never stop feeling.

"Thank you, baby," Tony rasps. "I’m going to _break_ you.”

 

 

 

 

Before they knew it, Peter is between Tony and the wall once more, one leg hiked up in order for Tony to get full access to what’s in between the smaller male's legs. This position allows Tony to spread him so much — it allows Tony to go deeper and that's what they both want. They‘re both laboured with too much desire and lust, and it's evident with how many red lines there are on Tony’s body, while Peter boasted dried streaks of white from all the orgasms he’s had and purple marks from fingers and teeth. The other white streaks of cum are inside him, from where Tony had marked his territory — marked him as a personal dump for his cum.

But Peter is still desperate — because he will never be satisfied, because Tony will never be constantly around to fuck him like this when Peter needs him to.

His tense, hosiery-clad legs are what Tony holds firmly with his muscled arm, if only to stretch them and have them rest on his broad shoulder. As expected from Peter, he's incredibly flexible, especially with things that involve separating his thighs. From his urgent, hatefucking pace, Tony already broke Peter into letting go of all decency.

Although this time, his thrusts aren’t fueled by the pace.

This time, he slams into Peter. A rhythm that gets the hero’s eyes to almost go completely white. It‘s the slow, punctured movement of Tony’s hips that allow his cock to drag so slowly inside Peter and mess his walls up with carvings of lust. It's the steady, deep slams that reach his stomach and let all of his insides tremble with the beat. It's this time that Tony allows Peter to savor the sex and imprint the feeling of his cock onto his mind. But since his mind is malfunctioning, he just carves it into his red body.

It's a painful squeeze that Peter breathes for. His gut is twisting and turning from Tony’s harsh yet steady pace of ramming into himself so deeply with a force that made his whole body convulse. His body is just a loop of blurred euphoria at this point. This is how it feels to be ecstatic. It's obvious in the way Peter’s begging to be fucked harder goes away and is replaced by a blissful, almost relaxed expression and his drawled out moans that sound like soft kitten mewls, his body accomodating to the comfy heaven he rarely experiences.

With every push of his cock inside, Tony causes Peter to spasm with abandon. The pathetic keens of the young hero fade into satisfied, dreamy moans of complete bliss moments after, as if the aftertaste of one great thrust is so sweet it takes hours for his body to process it.

Tony huffs in strain as he gives another crazy good pound which he sees go through Peter’s entire body, before he drags himself out to do it all over again. The beauty’s soft insides won't let go and Peter is whining in extreme ecstasy as he almost chokes on his own drool.

His lover only raises his leg higher, splitting him apart, and Peter sighs in contentment whilst Tony just plows and plows and plows. It feels nice to feel the tremors of Peter’s limp body against his own.

Peter just feels so good it's borderline impossible to recover from this. Peter ruins his desire for any other, and the boy drives him to near insanity with his gorgeous reactions and kind smiles. Really, he spoils him too much. Tony’s already plenty spoiled money-wise, so to have such an angel spoiling him physically on the side with sex is sinful heaven.

Now, so far from when they began yet not far enough, the only thing that's left is to chase their orgasms — though take it from Peter when he says that his body had already been in the state of orgasm the moment Tony entered their room.

" _Tony_ ," is the only thing Peter hums when he reaches his orgasm that just keeps going higher and higher, leaving him stuck in a fluffy state of mind. Tony comes back to thrusting into him in a hasty pace to ride out the orgasm perfectly.

When Peter cums, his whole body shuts down. He sees white, he sees black, he hears nothing and everything. He could only feel how much he was shuddering, how great it feels to burst all of that liquid, and because of the man’s uninterrupted fucking, Peter experiences multiple orgasms all at once.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[...]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Happy eighteenth, kiddo,” Mr. Stark hums, brushing his fingers through Peter’s brown curls in order to press a light kiss to the back of his head. “Sorry I ruined the night.”

The older man pulls Peter’s blanket over his unconscious form, leaving two friendly pats on his cheeks. It‘s heartbreaking, Mr. Stark briefly thinks, how angelic this broken boy looked bathing in early scattered sunlight.

“I actually gotta go back to work and stuff...”

Mr. Stark flipping his helmet down, back in his Iron Man suit, hopping out the open window lets himself sigh, regret filling his conscience yet again. This several-night-stand they had going on? This isn’t healthy for Peter. He’s taking away the child’s childhood, for fucks sake.

(Maybe he and Howard really do share similarities.)

“I promise I’ll try harder,” continues the legend, mumbling, “with, y’know. Holding myself back from you; being a proper hero for you to look up to. You don’t deserve some old perv taking over your sex life while his is perfectly open.” 

The window shuts, and Mr. Stark’s words are muffled yet somehow still clear.

“You’re cute, Pete — handsome. You should go on dates, get kisses that mean sappy things, fall in love, all that. Do that instead of this, you’d be better off.”

 

He flies away, missing the bitter laugh that follows his leaving.

Peter opens his pulsing eyes, rolling onto his back with hysterical tears already travelling down his face. Bad luck loved his life too much, really. Of all the moments his mind decides to wake him up, it’s to Tony Stark chucking another pebble at his dumb glass heart.

“Great job, kid,” he wryly laughs, choked above the sound of flowing cries.

He wants to sob, to wail, to breakdown, but can’t bring up the energy to. Because this is routine. He’s used to routine.

Peter rubs his eyes, all too tired with a sick.. addiction he knows won’t stop anytime soon, begging for surcrease from the onslaught of daily sting he gives himself.

“I want all those things for me too, Mr. Stark,” Peter hiccups, agreeing, now settling to just clutch his blanket, hugging his trembling form. “But I want that with _you_.”

 

 

 

 

 

Spiderman, for all his snark and sass and _smarts_ , will always be Peter Parker.

And Peter Parker, despite his Gen-Z humor and adorkableness, will always be the timid school boy from Queens.

Silent; unspoken.

_(And pathetically in love with Tony Stark.)_

**Author's Note:**

> Lmaooooooooooo screw this idk smut isn’t my thing writing isn’t my thing in general I’m just bored and my chaptered story refuses to have chapter three put together so my mind needs to vent out it’s frustrations (i’m so sorry, Mind).  
> Anywayssss.
> 
> ( ͡°ω ͡°)  
> I had fun doing research about words to use for this.
> 
> (If you wanna gimme a few Starker prompts for oneshots or drabbles go ahead right [here](https://starkersuns.tumblr.com)~)  
>  ~~(Also um I’d really appreciate comments because I’m an Insecure Bitch™ and Idk if people actually like this by just seeing the ‘hits’... •-•)~~


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